


Cross-Country

by pastel_x_tea



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Trans Character, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Robbery, Sharing a Bed, Trains, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastel_x_tea/pseuds/pastel_x_tea
Summary: Ned heads out on a cross-country train ride to personally deliver paintings to "Adam". Jacob decides to follow him.(This is my first fic for this ship and also my first fic on AO3, so I hope it's good! Thank you to my friend for letting me ramble on about this fic until it reached what I thought was perfect and thank you to the ACS authors in my bookmarks for getting me into the ship and inspiring me to write about it. More fics like this are to come!)





	1. Chapter 1

“The wheels of London never stop. Always more work to be done!”

Jacob had been thinking about Mr. Wynert for quite a while. He held the design outline to a gun in his hand, folding it and unfolding it as the twins’ train slowly moved along. The blueprint was the last he’d see of Ned, his personal second-favorite of the contacts (his first being Henry, of course, as he figured that as his possible future in-law, he had to be the favorite).

He groaned and smacked the paper down. “Screw it. I’m going out.” He grabbed his top hat and jumped off the train before Evie could protest. He looked around as the train rolled away. He had no clue where Ned was, and now he had to walk.

He trudged to the nearest train station, complaining the whole time to nobody in particular. He complained about Evie, and trains, and boots that made his feet ache. He then turned his complaints toward the subject of Ned. Ned always stirred up curiosity in him. He was such a mysterious man, his hat brim pulled over his eyes, his body draped in layers of white, brown, and black. He sent the twins their missions with a smirk, a nod, and a bit of sass. He came from America. Is that just how they did things in America? And Adam. Jacob noticed Ned pause when he was asked about the man. Who on Earth was he? Everybody had secrets, but Ned’s were just… interesting.

He finally got to the train station, sitting on a bench with a heavy thump and a sigh. He put his hat down next to him, groaning. This trip had been a pointless attempt to snoop on a contact he’d never see again.

“One ticket, please. Cross-country. Yes, two-way.”

He took it back. This trip had been an unbelievable stroke of luck.

“Two, actually.” Jacob put his money down on the counter. Ned looked at him, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Jacob Frye. My old contact.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “You say that like we’ve been apart ages. We spoke two hours ago. And I’m only 21.”

Referring to whiskey, an assassin cure-all, Ned said, “In some parts of my country, that’s barely legal.”

Winking, Jacob replied, “In what way, Wynert?”

Drumming her fingers, the woman behind the counter added, “Train leaves in ten minutes.”

“Yes, of course. One ticket, please.”

“Two.” Ned scowled at him and Jacob smiled. “What, you’re going to be delivering paintings I helped steal and you’re not even inviting me?”

“Look, how many tickets are you buying?”

Jacob watched Ned expectantly, like a puppy waiting for its owner. Ned sighed and pooled his money with Jacob’s, pushing the money across the counter and not looking Jacob in the eye. “Two.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Tickets done up, they sat on a bench. Ned looked at Jacob, tilting his head and cocking an eyebrow. “Where’s your bags, Frye?” He gestured to his own suitcases.

“Assassins travel light.”

“Interesting. I thought you’d want to bring more weapons and some of those outfits of yours. Anyway, at least now you can spend the first part of the ride making yourself useful by helping me unpack.” Jacob looked at the bags and frowned at their size as Ned smirked. “You’re the one with those assassin muscles you’re so fond of showing off at fight club.”

“You’ve seen me at fight club?”

Ned’s face was unreadable. “On occasion.”

Jacob did not further pursue the issue, but simply thought about whether Ned had had the pleasure of witnessing some of his better fights. Ned pulled a book out of his suitcase and thumbed through it, unbothered, occasionally adding his own annotations along the margins. After a short while, the train blew its whistle a ways down the track. Ned perked up and leaned over Jacob to get a better view. “Aren’t they amazing?”

Jacob got up and picked up some of Ned’s suitcases, smiling at Ned’s excitement and shrugging. “To you, Ned.”

The train rolled up, its whistle blowing one final time and its doors opening. Ned took the two heavy suitcases still remaining, smiling at Frye, a wink flirting at his eyes so briefly that Jacob almost missed it. He walked onto the train with Jacob following after, hardly able to keep up due to the rushing crowd and Ned’s excitement and urgency. Finally locating that signature bowler hat in the crowded train, he followed it until they reached the sleeping cabin marked on their ticket. Ned turned the brass key left in the door and opened it, looking around.

“For the love of God…”

There was one bed.


	2. Chapter 2

“Move over.”

“You seem to forget I’m the one against the wall.”

“Then let go of me.”

“That’s a fair drop to the ground, and I’m not having one of my contacts getting stitched up on a train.”

“From where my hips are at, it seems like we’re more than contacts, Frye.”

They’d been bickering the entire night due to their circumstances: a cramped bed and the stubbornness of them both. After both of them refused to sleep on the floor, they shared the bed, which they knew the whole time that’d they would have to do anyway. Jacob’s back was against the wall, with Ned pulled close to him where he fit, like silverware in a drawer.

“If you’d slept on my stomach like I’d suggested…”

“No.”

“Why ever not?”

“… I’m not letting you get the mattress.”

“I’m more comfortable than you’d think.”

Ned looked at the ground and shook his arm out, as it’d gotten sore from lying on it. He looked at Jacob and scowled. “Fine. This time.” Ned climbed out of bed and Jacob laid on his back. Jacob’s winning smirk was visible in the moonlight coming through the train window, and it only cemented Ned’s bad attitude about the situation, and about his choice to bring Jacob along with him on something so important. Ned laid down, his head lying on Jacob’s chest with his arms crossed over his own.

“You’re defensive in your sleep, too?”

“Shut your gob, Frye.”

Ned closed his eyes, his frown fading as he relaxed. His legs crossed over themselves, refusing to acknowledge the presence of Jacob’s. His arms, while still uncomfortable, spared him from both the awkwardness of unanswered questions and from Jacob suddenly getting the urge to hold his hand. He didn’t want Jacob getting any ideas in the first place. Jacob put an arm around Ned’s waist and Ned made a move to swat it away.

“Remember, no stitches.”

Ned’s hand slowly lowered.

Jacob fell asleep and, hesitantly, Ned did too. Before that, Ned stayed up pondering on several things. The engineering of the train. The meaning of life. And the satisfaction Jacob seemed to be getting from this situation. Of course, he’d bickered too at the realization there was one bed, but now he seemed to be acting so smug and seemed to be teasing Ned in everything he did. He at least hoped that Jacob realized he was a man. He didn’t want any expectations to be built upon assumptions.

Ned wasn’t sure how he felt about Frye. On their first meeting, he’d taken an instant interest in him. Though his sister had done most of the talking and the business agreements, Jacob seemed to be sizing up Ned and his possible contributions to the Creed. And Ned swore that when Jacob talked about liking “a bit of sparkle”, he wasn’t only talking about coins and gold. Like he’d said, he had seen him at fight club quite a bit. Jacob was a natural… naturally, with his training. He could take down a man in one hit… and Ned loved that. Maybe it was just the American in him talking, but the violence in the ring was exciting, even more so when it was displayed by a contact he had at his disposal.

Ned’s body got tired of working, and Ned’s head got tired of thinking, and he drifted to sleep, with the repeating noise of the train's wheels moving as his lullaby.

At some time in the morning, Ned woke up with the realization that he couldn’t breathe.

Ned stumbled out of bed and gasped, clutching at his chest. He cursed himself in his head, not having the air to do it out loud. He knew he should’ve taken his bandages off like he always did before he went to sleep, but no, he once again held his reputation higher than his health. Jacob was awake and looked at Ned, now a shuddering heap on the train floor. He instantly rubbed the sleep from his eyes and came to Ned’s side, hands hovering above Ned’s back. “Are you okay?”

Ned’s fingers clawed at the buttons on his sleeping shirt, lacking the coordination to undo them, panicked and frenzied. “G-get… g-get it o-off…”

Jacob wasted no time undoing the buttons, ripping the shirt a bit in his speed. Ned freed himself from the fabric and started indiscriminately ripping at the bandages that circled his chest, letting the strips fall to the ground and crashing down amongst them, taking in deep, wheezing, relieved breaths. He was also relieved that it was so dark out that Jacob couldn’t see his current state.

“Christ, Wynert, you scared me…”

Ned pulled his shirt back together and did up the buttons, taking deep breaths and hoping he hadn’t managed to break a rib. He sputtered out the starts of sentences but didn’t know what to say. He finally settled on “Thank you”, words he hated to say. Jacob didn’t respond and sat on the floor next to Ned with his knees pulled to his chest. Ned sighed and did up the buttons, stomping over to bed and curling up on it with his chest to the wall and his knees to his chin. Jacob got up and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge cautiously. He climbed into bed, wanting to put a reassuring arm around Ned but deciding against it and putting his back to Ned’s, an arm dangling over the edge of the bed.

Jacob did enjoy being in Ned’s company and looking at him, you’d have to believe it’s for more than just selfish reasons. Ned didn’t feel like every other contact. Other contacts were focused on their work, be it inventing, ghost hunting, or researching, constantly. Ned was younger than all of them, and much more fun. Besides the fact that his work (and hobby) was transport engineering and train robberies, he also enjoyed a stop by the fight club or a round of drinks (Ned’s favorite was whiskey). He had an attitude about him, a smirk proclaimed superiority. It was a welcome change in dominance for Jacob.

At this point, Jacob knew he liked men, but he couldn’t figure out if he liked Ned. He didn’t want Ned to be some kind of experiment. He fell asleep with this in his head.

Upon waking, Ned was digging through luggage. Jacob came over to make himself useful. He pulled a roll of bandages out from under books and clothes. “Damn, just how many fights are you planning on getting into?”

“Give me that.” Ned shoved them in his own bag. He watched Jacob take out books, thumb through them, and stack them on the floor.

“A little light reading for the trip?”

“Just a couple fundamental principles of engineering.”

Jacob chuckled and returned to stacking the books, pushing them against the wall as Ned put clothes on the small provided shelf. There were three days in this voyage, and he was only on day one. He wouldn’t mind repacking. When the cases were finally stacked in the corner and everything looked the way Ned wanted it to, he smiled and opened the door of the room.

“Come on, Frye, let’s get breakfast.”


	3. Chapter 3

“And would you like to buy any of our desserts?”

Jacob was scanning the small menu provided. “Well, you could say I’m buy-curious…”

He and Ned were sitting at a table in the dining car. It was nicely set, with a tablecloth and two plates, and even a small vase with a flower. It was quite the aesthetically pleasing scene. They already sat with their plates stacked with the complimentary scones and each had a cup of tea sitting by them, obviously. Ned took a sip from his cup and set it back down, his face straight. Jacob handed the menu to the waiter. “Pudding.”

The waiter walked away, and Ned looked back to Jacob, head cocked, sizing the man up. “I know you want an explanation for all this, Frye. You want me to start with me, or with Adam?”

“Maybe you should start with why you almost died on me last night.”

Ned bounced his leg on his knee and blew a stray curl out of his way. “I knew you’d say that, Frye. Listen, it’s a long story… it’s kind of… strange. Or, you’d probably think it’s strange. Or, shocking or something.”

Jacob shrugged. He smirked that smirk, that stupid, carefree smirk that always made Ned slightly annoyed, and even made him think that Jacob didn’t take anything in life seriously, including life itself. “Well, I’m sitting down. I’m ready for a shock.”

Ned rolled his eyes. “If you’re not gonna take this seriously, you might as well get off at the next stop.”

“Really, I am. But I think after everything I’ve seen in London, nothing’s gonna come as a shock to me anymore.”

Ned didn’t have time to play Jacob’s games, or to pretend like he was happy to be confessing his most well-kept secret on a dining car on a multi-day crosscountry train while death-gripping his teacup in case the train suddenly lurched. The waiter sat down the dessert dish, and this added another layer of frustration for Ned. He was now confessing said secret to someone who was wolfing down pudding like an eager child. He cleared his throat. “Jacob. This is serious.”

Jacob’s spoon stopped and returned to the dish. “Sorry.”

Ned sighed and closed his eyes, focusing on the rumbling of the train to quell his anxiety. “Look, Frye… my real name isn’t even Ned.” He watched a look of alarm spread over Jacob’s face and quickly backtracked. “I’m not a spy! It’s just… you can tell I’m not from around here, right? Yeah, I was born in, uh, America… New York, more specifically… and my name is… was… no, is… was… um… Henrietta. Or Netta, for short. Which is… how I got this name. And I put that stuff on my chest and…” _Don’t lose it,_ he told himself. But he was falling apart trying to even explain it. Being trapped on a moving train didn’t help. Damn it, damn it, damn it. “… and it, you know… makes me look… normal. But I’m not.” He took a deep breath and was angry that his breath was broken and that he was shuddering. “I’m not normal. I shouldn’t even be here. And still…” He looked down at the tea rippling in his tea glass. “… I’m here. A criminal and a liar.”

He had rambled, he knew it. And at the end of this rambling, he knew it wasn’t even really necessary. He could’ve claimed that he had broken ribs, or that he was healing from a fight. He could’ve even said that Jacob’s ego was just suffocating him in the night. But he hadn’t. He’d just told a contact he thought he’d never see again his deepest secret after said contact had barged into his train trip and made him share a bed.

People were chattering all around the dining car, unaware. But in Jacob and Ned’s little corner of the train, it was suffocatingly quiet. And then…

“… that’s it?”

Ned looked up slightly, still not meeting Jacob’s eye. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”

“That’s really all you’re gonna tell me? Christ, Ned, I thought you were dying!” Jacob laughed nervously, seeming relieved. “I thought you were sick, or… jeez, that’s really it? Ned, you’re…”

“I’m not Ned.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Hornswoggle. Two minutes ago, Ned was sitting in front of me and, as far as I can tell, he still is.”

“As far as you can tell here. If I was confessing this in our sleeping car I could show you it’s a much different story.”

Jacob chuckled, and Ned glared at him. “Sorry, sorry, I know… look, what name has everyone been calling you in London?”

“Ned.”

“And how’d you introduce yourself to me and Evie?”

“… Ned.”

“And who were you ten minutes ago?”

Ned sighed. “Ned, but—“

“And who do you feel like?”

Ned paused. He tapped his finger against the side of his tea glass softly and listened to it softly clink, took a sip to avoid answering the question, looked out the window, and finally, met Jacob’s eye. “Ned. I feel like Ned.”

“Mystery solved, Ned.”

Ned’s frown softened. “But Jacob, it’s not that easy…”

“Then until you look in the mirror and always see Ned, I guess we’ll just have to keep playing this little name game every day.” He smiled and rested his hand on Ned’s, lowering his shaky teacup to the table. “I’m sad I don’t have a secret about me to share in return for you sharing yours, but I _can_ order you a pudding.”

Ned laughed, relaxed. “I’d love that, Jacob.”

Jacob smiled and didn’t mention it.


End file.
